


calcium in our bones, iron in our veins

by boasamishipper



Series: and i think it's gonna be a long, long time [9]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Iron Man (Movies), Top Gun (1986)
Genre: Cats, Developing Friendships, Domestic Fluff, First Meetings, Gen, Post-Canon, Post-Iron Man 1, SHIELD, Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25837411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boasamishipper/pseuds/boasamishipper
Summary: Commander Marvel raises his eyebrows. “You think you’re the only superhero in the world? You’ve become part of a bigger universe, Mr. Stark. You just don’t know it yet.”“Ah,” Tony says. “Well, that’s fascinating and all, but…why are you here?”“I’m here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.”
Relationships: Nick Fury & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky/Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tony Stark & Pete "Maverick" Mitchell
Series: and i think it's gonna be a long, long time [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1460746
Comments: 4
Kudos: 33





	calcium in our bones, iron in our veins

The fallout from the press conference lasts forever and a day; hell, if it weren’t for Happy and Rhodey sneaking him out the back while Pepper distracted the reporters, he’d probably still be stuck up there answering their questions. Normally he’s got no problem with having everybody’s eyes on him, but after everything — after Afghanistan, after Yinsen, after Obie — he just wants to be alone for a while. Preferably with his equipment and a glass of the finest booze within arms reach.

“Evening, JARVIS.”

Tony’s on guard even before JARVIS’s answer of _Welcome home, sir_ reaches him. Not just because JARVIS’s voice is warped and distorted _(hacked, somebody_ hacked _my AI),_ but because there’s a man lounging on his couch, his feet up on the coffee table like he owns the place. Dark hair, green eyes, definitely a looker, even if he’s about ten years too old for Tony (and not at all Tony’s type). And the red and black jumpsuit he’s got on is clear enough that whatever’s about to happen is no ordinary business.

“I am Iron Man,” says the man. So clearly he’s seen the news. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you yet, but that was great. Really showy. I approve.”

Tony stares. “Who the hell are you?”

“Commander Marvel,” says the man, and gets to his feet with an easy smile. “That’s my superhero name, so to speak — though I gotta say, it’s not anywhere near as catchy as Iron Man is. Think it’s too late in the game for me to rebrand?”

Only one part of that registers. “Your superhero name?”

Commander Marvel raises his eyebrows. “You think you’re the only superhero in the world? You’ve become part of a bigger universe, Mr. Stark. You just don’t know it yet.”

“Ah,” Tony says. “Well, that’s fascinating and all, but…why are you here?”

“I’m here to talk to you about the Avengers Initiative.” Commander Marvel checks his watch, and then shrugs one shoulder. “You got anything to drink around here? Coffee? I gotta fly home after this and I need to be up early tomorrow.”

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Got more people to recruit for this super secret boy band of yours?”

“Nah,” Commander Marvel says. “This is just a part time thing: favor for a friend. I’ve got work in the morning and my partner’s technically my boss, so he’ll kill me if I’m late.”

Tony stares at him. Commander Marvel stares right back.

“JARVIS,” Tony says at last. “Make us some coffee?”

* * *

“So you’re with the...whatever that Coulson’s with. The Strategic Hometown—”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division,” Commander Marvel finishes, lifting his cup to his mouth. After Tony got JARVIS back online and figured out the kinks of the new coffee machine, they’d headed out to the balcony, watching the ocean crashing up against the rocks below. “I keep telling Coulson he ought to shorten it when he talks it up to people. SHIELD, for short.”

“Yeah, that does roll off the tongue better,” Tony says. “Maybe you can change the name of the Initiative too. What’re these ‘remarkable people’ your friend is looking for supposed to be avenging, anyway?”

Commander Marvel shrugs. “It was going to be the Protectors Initiative, back when it was still in the early stages,” he says. “Or the Marvelettes, if Fury got his way. I think Avengers is better.”

“Fury?”

“Director of SHIELD,” Commander Marvel supplies. His lips twist. “You could say he’s had his eye on you for a while now.”

Tony senses there’s an inside joke in there somewhere, but he’s too preoccupied with the facts before him to pry. “And you’ve got superpowers too,” he says, “beyond looking good for your age? Or is that just a moisturizer thing, or—”

Commander Marvel holds out one of his hands, palm up, which flickers with blue and orange light. He makes the light shoot a foot and a half high, the heat warping the air between them, and manipulates the energy into shapes: a triangle, a circle, a star. Satisfied, he closes his fist, and the light disappears.

Tony’s eyebrows arch. “Huh,” he says. “Mine’s cooler.”

“See how cool it is when your suit melts after getting hit by a couple of fireballs,” Commander Marvel says, his tone mild but brooking no argument. “Then we’ll talk.”

Tony shrugs. A few days in the lab and he can have his suit equipped with an even cooler light show and fireballs to boot. Then they’ll see who has the cooler power. He finishes his coffee (he needs at least five cups before the caffeine kicks in anyway) and says, “So the team consists of, what? You and me and a couple of master assassins?”

“Right now, yeah,” Commander Marvel says. “If you want to join up. But I warn you, if you don’t, Fury’s not going to be thrilled with you launching a solo career. He prefers to keep an eye on everyone like us at all times — keep us all within the organization, so to say.”

“What does he know? He could be looking at the next Michael Jackson.”

“Or the next Ginger Spice,” Commander Marvel says. Tony frowns, offended. “You don’t have to make the decision now. And if you do want to join up, you don’t have to go full _I am Iron Man_ and announce it to the world. SHIELD knows how to keep things like this on the down low, especially if you’ve got people you need to protect.”

From the look on Commander Marvel’s face, Tony wonders just how many people he has to protect, and how long he’s been protecting them. And then he’s thinking about Pepper, and Happy, and everybody else that means a damn to him — and how Yinsen had looked up at him with the light fading from his eyes and said, _Don’t waste your life, Stark._

He puts a pin in it. Too much, not right now.

“Anyway,” Commander Marvel says, quieter this time, like he can read Tony’s mind. “Like I said, you don’t have to decide now. Take some time to think it over. But between you and me, I’d be glad to have you as an Avenger. And I’m glad you’re finally doing some good for the world.”

Tony waves off Commander Marvel’s empty cup without taking it. “I don’t like being handed things,” he says lightly, even though his mind’s full of what Commander Marvel had just said. Doing good for the world, doing something other than making endless weapons. Hadn’t that been at the root of everything he’d fought Obie — _Stane_ about? “Just set it down on the floor. Someone’ll get it later.”

Commander Marvel shrugs, sets the cup down, and checks his watch again. “You’ll get a visit from Fury in a few days, probably,” he says. “Or Coulson. Stay out of trouble, give the offer some thought. I gotta get going.” He looks like he’s debating patting Tony on the shoulder, but decides against it. He hops up on the balcony railing and gives a two-fingered salute. “Thanks for the coffee.”

And then he tips over the side and disappears.

Tony drops his cup and instantly hurls himself forward; he swears both his heart and his arc reactor short circuit when he sees Commander Marvel honest to God floating in the air, propelled by nothing but the light emanating from his hands. Un-fucking-believable. _How the hell is that even possible?_

“Huh,” he says, because he literally cannot think of anything else to say. “Alright, so it’s a tie.”

Commander Marvel’s eyes gleam. “Almost a tie.”

“Whatever floats your boat, Sparkles,” Tony says. “Or floats you, I guess.”

That gets an incredulous laugh. “Sparkles? Really?”

“Work in progress. I’m not calling you Commander Marvel. How about Marv, for short? Just Marvel?”

Commander Marvel grins. “Call me Maverick,” he says. “I’ll see you around, Iron Man.”

And with that, he goes supernova-bright and tears off across the sky like a shooting star, like he’d never been there at all. Tony just shakes his head as he picks up the coffee cup. He’ll figure out what to do with the remains of his cup in the morning.

“Maverick,” he repeats, trying the name on for size. “You can count on it.”

* * *

_“So what’d he say? Is he in?”_

Maverick shakes his head, wishing Fury wasn’t so damn punctual with these calls of his. “He’s thinking about it,” he says. He lands in front of Ice’s garage and smooths a hand through his hair, adjusting the communicator as he speaks. “Give him some time before you knock his door down, okay?”

Fury makes a dismissive noise. _“Whole damn world’s going to be knocking down Stark’s door. I’m going to be the least of his worries.”_ There’s some shuffling of papers on Fury’s end, and then he says, _“Thanks for the favor, Maverick. I’ll repay you once this bullshit in the southwest region dies down.”_

“Repay me by convincing my boss to give me the day off tomorrow,” Maverick says. “Flying back and forth between Malibu and Fallon all weekend is no joke.”

_“I’ll leave the convincing to you. I think you’ve got a better in with him than I do.”_

Maverick laughs. “Here’s hoping,” he says. “I’ll give you a better rundown later, alright?”

_“Six o’clock sharp. I’ll be expecting an answer on the first ring.”_

“Sir, yes sir. Talk to you then.”

Maverick hangs up and heads inside. It’s three thirty in the morning now, but the baby Flerkens are all over him before he even takes two steps into the living room, purring up a storm and rubbing up against his ankles, eager for attention. “Hey, kitties,” he whispers, crouching down so he’s eye to eye with them. “Where’s Grandpa? He asleep?”

Clem mews and leads him toward the bedroom. Ice is fast asleep on his stomach, the covers pulled up to his shoulders and Maverick’s pillow tucked under one arm. Chewie’s standing guard at the foot of the bed, pacing back and forth; she relaxes only slightly when she sees it’s Maverick and not an intruder.

“Stand down, soldier,” he teases. Her nose twitches in what he thinks is a laugh. “I’ll take it from here.”

Satisfied, Chewie and Clem flounce out of the room. Maverick sits down on the bed, sliding his Commander Marvel jumpsuit off and tossing it on the floor. He’s trying to be as quiet as possible, but he’s just about to join Ice under the covers when Ice’s voice floats up, sleep-slurred. “You’re back late.”

“Back early, more like it,” Maverick says. “Sorry I woke you.”

“S’okay.” Ice yawns and turns onto his side, pushing Maverick’s pillow back towards its original place. Maverick accepts it and finishes lying down. “How was Malibu?”

“Not bad,” Maverick says, stifling a yawn. His eyelids droop; Ice moves closer and puts an arm around him, and Maverick lets himself relax into the familiar warmth of his embrace. “Stark’s a pistol. I think you’d like him.”

“Mm.” Ice brushes his lips against Maverick’s jaw, then nuzzles at his throat. “Introduce me sometime.”

“‘Kay.” Maverick nudges Ice’s nose with his own. “Hey, whaddya think about taking the morning off? We don’t need to be at work until the afternoon hop, anyway.”

He expects Ice to shoot down the suggestion right away, but Ice just snorts. “Maybe,” he murmurs, “if you make it worth my while when I wake up.”

Maverick smirks. “I’ll see what I can do.”


End file.
